A Good Example
by Adrian Tullberg
Summary: A smile raised at a Funeral. Post Endgame


A Good Example

By Adrian Tullberg

* * *

Despite not being in uniform, Rogers felt compelled to set a good example.

Among the tearful, the murmurers and the shaken, Captain Rogers was the stoic, the sympathetic, the resolute. Standing in his suit and tie in Stark's house, sipping Stark's drinks, mourning Stark's passing.

And there was still much to do. Talking to Strange about using the Time Stone to stabilise the timeline despite the numerous paradoxes their 'heist caused – Bruce explained the concept of 'Grandfather Paradox' and 'Bootstrap Paradox', and Rogers' forehead still felt numb.

Explaining to Secretary Ross why maintaining a 'Time Strike Force' was a bad idea because Bruce and Ross in the same room was a worse idea, and Hank Pym considered 'anger management' an abstract theory at best. Not to mention the unlimited potential the physicist possessed to hide a body.

As soon as he returned the Stones to their origin point, Rogers was going to introduce every last one of Stark's time GPS's to a large hammer, and blame Stark's infamous paranoia on not being able to create any more.

Natasha's funeral. Clint offered to help, at least.

Rogers drained his glass. Considering the unprecedented mass return of half the world, not to mention rebuilding the Avengers, he was going to be put into a logistical quagmire from now til the end of existence. Right now, he would give anything to replace this half life/half existence to duty with something vaguely normal-

Someone placed a champagne glass in his left hand.

Rogers looked up; large guy, reddish hair, round face that looked normally used to a cheerful expression. Looked familiar.

"You looked like you could use that."

Rogers set down the empty in his right hand. "That obvious?"

The guy stuck out his right hand. "Peter Quill."

Rogers took the proffered hand. "Steve Rogers"

"Oh My God …"

There it was, the dawning realisation, the impact of seventy odd years of propaganda that not even a few years on the run could dent. Now the only thing was, would it be gushing approval, masked glee, armchair general or unashamed sales pitch? Rogers was betting on sales pitch …

"… your parents must have been insane Captain America fans."

The left corner of Roger's mouth twitched upwards.

"Guess they were."

* * *

Nick Fury was searching his pockets for the fifth time. Where the hell was his phone?

* * *

Nebula never attended funerals or similar ceremonies as a rule. Normally, where the dead were concerned, she was usually the direct, or, in this instance, the indirect cause of their lack of vital functions.

However, her teacher of paypa football was a man of means on this world, and the event had a dish called Canna Peas. She was currently on her third platter. Nebula resolved to find the equivalent of salmon out in civilised space.

Breathe, scan, assess the room.

Drax was talking to Banner … who had the expression of someone listening to Drax for the first time.

Rocket was nowhere to be seen. Considering his hobby of collecting cybernetics, she preferred to know where he was at all times.

Rhodey was watching someone. Quill?

Nebula moved next to Rhodey, who nodded his acknowledgement. "I take it he hasn't been back to Earth in a while."

Nebula took her fourth platter from an experienced server who, despite the blue skin being new, could spot a problem client a mile off and made the tactical decision to make her happy. "I thought Rogers was famous here."

Documentaries, at least three Oscar-bait films, a Smithsonian exhibit, and one infamous Andy Warhol piece.

"When should we tell him?"

A smile which reinforced Stark's debrief assessment of 'sadistic'. "Let's see if he works it out for himself."

* * *

"I mean, your high school life must have been hell."

"Yeah, suppose it was."

"Didn't help that you started looking like him. I mean, a bit"

"For a while, had a beard just so people would stop saying that."

"You could have changed your name."

"It's the one my parents gave me."

Quill raised his glass. "Respect."

* * *

The ambulatory tree found the anthropomorphic raccoon standing on the buffet table, holding aloft a plastic rectangle, pointed at Quill.

"I Am Groot?"

"Well, around here, they record when someone's being stupid, then log it on their comm network. May as well respect local customs."

"I Am Groot."

"My theory is that it's a way to stop idiots from breeding."

"I Am Groot."

"Okay! To be honest – I'm trying to set a good example."

* * *

Inspired by a Scene in 'Notting Hill'.


End file.
